


Something in the Middle, Something's in the Way

by BlameItOnTheBlock



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Christmas, I'm Sorry, M/M, a lil angsty, someone should have stopped me from doing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-23 21:02:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlameItOnTheBlock/pseuds/BlameItOnTheBlock
Summary: Depending on where you start the story, it started on a Sunday.Declan chose than moment to walk by, looking exhausted with a cup of coffee in his hand, just as Ronan accidentally applied too much pressure, hitting the button. Purple smoke shot from the needle. Ronan could hear Adam try to call out, probably to tell Declan to watch out, but the ball of smoke hit him square in the face.In other words, Ronan's latest dream making leads to Declan's regression to the tender age of six. Ronan has to deal with a version of his brother he doesn't want to see. Adam's plans for a relaxing break at the Barns have imploded. Matthew has no idea what's going on. And they need to figure out how the hell to get the Declan they all know (and secretly love) back.





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I get ideas that should really just stay in my head. Like this one. Oh well. I hope you all enjoy, and I hope I do the characters justice. This is my first TRC fic ever, and truthfully writing Ronan was kind of difficult for me. Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> The title is taken from "Sisters" by Radical Face. I highly recommend it! It gives me Lynch brother vibes! 
> 
> ~DTW

Depending on where you start the story, it started on a Sunday. 

Ronan was dreaming, as he normally was, not with the intent of actually bringing anything from his dreams. He was dicking around, playing with different molds of different things. The idea was to create something that could turn back a process. Like turn back the process of a tree dying, or a friend dying. Just in case. 

While dreaming without Cabeswater was difficult, he  _felt_ that he was beginning to get the hang of it. A little more concentration, a little more precision. With Cabeswater, Ronan could sometimes fudge minor details, and get away with it. Of course, Cabeswater didn't  _always_ get what he wanted on the first try. He still had to be direct with what he wanted.  _Now_ was a whole different animal, that Ronan would rather die than admit he was struggling to tame. 

But tonight was different. Tonight he was happy, excited even. Adam was back home, sleeping sound against him. His brothers were spending the night, as Declan complained that the early morning drive was exhausting, and spending Saturday nights "just made more sense." Ronan hoped that meant he'd see more of his brothers. At his core, he missed them, terribly so. And even though his and Declan's relationship was no where picture perfect, it was better than it had been since their father was killed. 

Ronan's head was filled with happy thoughts, the kind that made dreaming easy. Nothing would try to harm him, or Adam, or Opal, or any occupant of the Barns tonight. Tonight, Ronan was free to tinker. 

So he did. And the end result was surprising, but not displeasing. It looked like a sundial, with numbers starting at age 19 and going back to 1 in roman numerals, and a button in the middle. The needle attached to the button was uncharacteristically thick, in his humble opinion. He wasn't sure what the button was more, and he wasn’t  _quite_ sure if the numbers meant anything specific, but it looked sick and ancient with the rusted bronze and roman numerals. Against his better judgment, he took it with him.

He woke with cool metal grasped in his hand, the pointed needle was poking him in the palm, and he couldn't move. He could hear Adam stirring beside him, groaning softly. Adam, Ronan noticed, had a weird affinity of just  _knowing_ when he brought something back. Every time Ronan was waiting for the feeling to return to his body, Adam was forcing his eyes open to be awake when he could move. He tried to question him about it once, but Adam only shrugged. "Dunno Lynch, guess I only like you just enough to know your safe." It'd made Ronan blush, and he never asked again. 

Now, Adam rolled over, physically onto him. "What'd you bring back?" He slurred into his ear. He could practically _feel_ his cheeky smile against his neck. Ronan wanted to tell him to  _fuck off_ because he knew damn well that he couldn't move or speak yet. Adam began tracing patterns on his chest, waiting patiently. Ronan secretly, though he was almost positive Adam knew anyway, loved this. The "not being able to move” part freaked him out, but when Adam would lay with his head on his shoulder, and just  _touch_ him, he never felt more content in his life. 

But he always broke the spell by shoving Adam off him. "You're such a shithead," he said, with more affection than bite. 

"What? I was only asking," Adam wore a face of perfected innocence. Ronan rolled eyes, and held up his dream thing for Adam to see. He was quiet for a moment. 

"Is that a sundial?" Adam asked, amusement laced his words.  

"Piss off. It's not a fucking sundial. It's," Ronan paused. He didn't  _actually_ know what the hell it did. He knew the idea of what he wanted it to do, but he didn't actually know if this stupid little trinket would do that. "It's just not a fucking sundial," he ended up repeating himself. Ronan wasn't entirely sure how  _it's basically supposed to turn back time somehow_ would go over. 

There was a loud  _CRASH_ downstairs, followed by Opal's manic laugh, and an even louder  _SHHH,_ which sounded an awful lot like Matthew. 

Adam gave him a soft, lovely smile, "time to get up?" 

Ronan sighed, leaned over to kiss Adam, hard and sweet all at the same time, and rolled out of bed, unlocking Chainsaw's cage as he passed by. 

It was Sunday morning at the Barns, Opal was probably wrecking havoc with Matthew downstairs, Declan would be knocking on his door any minute with a snide  _you'll miss breakfast if you don't get your ass up,_  Adam Parrish was still in his bed, and Ronan was ridiculously happy. 

✠✠✠

In hindsight, Ronan should have known better than to bring his latest dream happening downstairs with him. He half forgot it was even in his hand by the time he was halfway down the steps, and sheer laziness stopped him from turning back and putting it in his room. He figured he could just set it out of sight, until he went back upstairs to get ready for Mass.

He was wrong. 

The moment his foot hit the bottom step, Matthew had spotted him, and then the dream thing. 

"What's that?" he asked, as he  _literally_ bounced up to Ronan. 

"A sundial," Adam answered from behind him. 

"It's not a fucking sundial, Parrish!" 

"Sure looks like one," Matthew said, reached for the not-sundial. 

"You don't even know what a sundial is," Ronan responded, holding it from Matthew's grabbing hands. Unfortunately, Matthew was nearly as all as Ronan now, which meant he nearly had the arm span  Ronan had, which meant that he could easily reach where Ronan was holding it away from him. He brought it back down to chest height, both he and Matthew trying to pull the not-sundial from each other's grasp. 

"Let it go, Matt," Ronan growled, but it was less of a growl and even less of a command, because Ronan would never actually yell at his baby brother. 

"But I want to see it," Matthew protested, pulling even harder. His index finger nudged the needle down, all the way to VI. Ronan didn't think much of it, as he yanked it back toward himself, his thumb resting on the middle button. 

Declan chose than moment to walk by, looking exhausted with a cup of coffee in his hand, just as Ronan accidentally applied too much pressure, hitting the button. Purple smoke shot from the needle. Ronan could hear Adam try to call out, probably to tell Declan to watch out, but the ball of smoke hit him square in the face. 

"Jesus  _fuck-"_ Declan coughed, his mug shattered on the floor after dropping it from the shock.

 _"Shit,"_  Ronan grabbed Matthew by the shirt, dragging him up the steps away from whatever the fuck that purple gas was. To the surprise of all three boys on the steps, the gas seemed to create a block around Declan. It didn't spread out to any of them. 

"That doesn't make sense," Adam muttered. Ronan said nothing, watching his older brother be consumed by the gas. 

"What do we do!" Matthew cried, tugging on Ronan's arm. "We have to do  _something_ _!_ _"_ But he had no idea what the fuck to do. He didn't think the stupid dial was anything dangerous, or potentially life threatening. It didn't feel like it. Not when he made. Not when he pulled it out. But now he felt helpless, as he could see the outline of his brother flailing, trying to get the smoke away from him. 

"Alright," Ronan said, pulling up the cuff of his shirt over his mouth and nose, taking a step down the stairs. Adam scoffed at his makeshift mask, but didn't say anything otherwise. Matthew squeezed his arm once more before letting him go. This was not how he had intended to start his morning. 

He crept closer to the now wall of smoke, praying to God that he hadn't just killed his brother.  _Please God be okay. Jesus Mary don't be dead._ Ronan didn't think he could handle another death, especially not his brother's. Catching Opal out of the corner of his eye, he shook his head vehemently at her. "Opal  _no_ ," he hissed.

" _Kerah,"_ she whispered, looking at where Declan was with large owlish eyes. For reasons unknown to Ronan, Declan was her favorite. She took a liking to him the minute she first saw him.

"I know, stay back alright," he said in the most soothing voice he could muster. It was a voice normally reserved for Matthew, but the fear on Opal's face made him feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Ice water filled him veins as he stepped ever closer to Declan. Last time he had been his afraid, Gansey was dying. He was just within arms reach of Declan, when the gas completely dissipated, with a force so strong it knocked Ronan flat on his back. He hit the floor with a resounding  _thud_. Fuck his back was going to hurt like a bitch later.

He heard Matthew gasp, and Adam whisper, _"_ _Holy shit."_ Opal whimpered. Furrowing his eyebrows, he sat up on his elbows. 

"What the  _fuck_ _?"_ Standing where 19 year old soon to be 20 year old, pain in the ass older brother, Declan should have been standing was a little boy, maybe 5 or 6 with piercing blue eyes and a mop of dark curls that Ronan hasn't seen in years. The boy was staring at Ronan, and Ronan stared back.  _It was Declan._ But then it also wasn't. This was Declan from old photos Ronan had found in the attic. This was young,  _young_ Declan. Ronan felt like his brain was short-circuiting. 

There was a hand on his shoulder that made him start and tear his eyes away from the boy. It was Adam. Ronan allowed him to help him up, clinging to Adam's hand as they both looked at Not Declan. 

He was still wearing the same clothes that Declan was wearing, only the pants were around his ankles, and the cotton t-shirt was falling off his shoulders. His eyes were narrowed, and his posture was stiff. He raised his jaw the way Ronan remembered him doing whenever he was scared but didn't want to show it. It struck him that as a young kid, Declan was already hiding his fears. Ronan felt an unknown pang in his chest. 

No one spoke. Matthew was still on the staircase. Opal was frozen in place. Declan's fists were clenching and unclenching, another sign of his uneasiness. Ronan realized he had no idea who any of them were. "Shit," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his scalp. 

Adam decided to break the silence. "How old are you?" He asked slowly and carefully. His voice was soft and as nonthreatening as Ronan had ever heard it. Declan's eyes narrowed farther. They all held their breath, waiting for an answer.

"Six," he finally said.

"Declan..." Matthew breathed. Ronan jumped again when he spoke. He hadn't even heard him come down the stairs. Declan looked panicked now. His eyes darted from Ronan to Adam to Matthew. 

"You- I don't know you!" He shouted. He was shaking now. "Mom! Dad!" Ronan didn't know what to do now. How was he supposed to tell his six year old older brother that both their parents are dead, and that his little brothers are the teenagers before him. There was also the problem of lying. He looked to Adam for help. He pursed his lips, nodding his head at Ronan, seeming to understand. He crouched gently, making no sudden movements that would frighten Declan any further. Still, Declan hunched in on himself. His gaze was on the ground, and he looked almost ready to cry. 

"Where's Ronan?" His voice was wobbling. "And Matthew?" Ronan could see the fear now. It wasn't there when he mentioned their parents, but it was there now. Ronan could only guess that now was the time that Declan was being told he was the one that had to protect the family. He felt a sharp flare of anger, and for the first time in his life, he thinks it was for his father. It made him uncomfortable, and more angry. He turned his attention back on Declan. 

"They're safe," Adam said quickly. Ronan could see the wheels turning in his head. "They're with-" he paused. "Your parents. They went out of town for a few days." There was something in Adam's voice that made Ronan put a hand on his shoulder. Something sad and bitter. He didn't understand it, and knew better than to ask. 

Declan's shoulders slumped, defeated. "Without me?" This Declan didn't know the extent of what their father would do with and without him yet. This was his first taste. It punched the air right out of Ronan. He couldn't do this. 

"Yea," Adam spoke quietly. "But your dad gave us specific instructions that you needed to be home to mend the farms. Us babysitters don't have a clue what we're doing." Ronan could not do this. He turned quickly, almost making Adam lose his balance from where he was crouched. If Declan was startled by his sudden reaction, Ronan didn't see it. He stomped angrily up the stairs, slamming his door shut with enough power to shake the whole house. 

✠✠✠

He was pacing back and forth when Adam walked in. 

"What the fuck, Lynch?" Adam shut the door far gentler than Ronan had moments earlier. He didn't say anything. He couldn't. There were too many words. Too many questions. Starting with what, who, how, and why the fuck? 

Adam sighed. "I left him with Matthew." 

Ronan grunted and continued pacing. 

"I don't know where Opal went. She was gone before I came up." 

Again, all he did was grunt. 

"Jesus Ronan,  _stop,"_ Adam grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing Ronan to face him. There was a hard look to his face, his mouth curved slightly down. To think not ten minutes ago, Adam was smiling and joking. There was a lot of emotions coursing through Ronan, and he had no idea which of them were displaying themselves on his face. Adam placed a hand to his cheek. Ronan leaned into it, kissing the palm softly. He felt a little more grounded. Not much, but a little. 

"He's still your brother," Adam murmured.

"I know."

"We need to do something," he echoed Matthew's words from earlier.

"I _know._ " 

Adam placed a soft kiss to his lips.

"At least we know it's not a sundial," Adam smirked as he said it. Ronan growled and kissed him quiet.  

✠✠✠

When Ronan felt calmer, ready to face the shit storm downstairs, he marched hand-in-hand with Adam, only to hear Matthew plead, "Chainsaw  _please,"_ and then he was running. He'd already let one dream thing fuck up his brother, he wasn't about to let another, no matter how much he loved Chainsaw. 

Declan was seated at the dining table. As to how Matthew convinced him to move, Ronan will never know. Opal was still no where to be found. Ronan wasn't too worried. She did this whenever he and Adam fought too. Chainsaw was on the table, looking curiously at Declan. Ronan could see how this might be a problem. Chainsaw, like Opal, had taken a weird liking to Declan. And Chainsaw was confused. And Chainsaw is a product of Ronan and has the same thought patterns as Ronan which means she does  _not_ handle things that confuse her well. Fuck. 

"Chainsaw," Ronan warned. She turned her head to him, eyed him, and turned back to Declan, who was perfectly still, wary of the large raven in front of him. 

She took a hop forward, her brilliant beak within striking distance of Declan's face. Still he did not move. 

 _"Chainsaw,"_ Ronan snapped. Adam was tense beside him. Matthew seemed ready to scream or cry, maybe both. Declan's breathing came in short tiny gasps. 

 _"Kerah,"_ she responded, sounding as affronted as a bird could get, and then, lightly tapped her beak against Declan's forehead. Adam let out the breath he'd been holding. Matthew laughed, and Ronan rolled his eyes. 

"You're so fucking dramatic," Ronan hissed to her. 

Adam snorted, "Says the maker." Ronan elbowed him. 

Declan smiled, for the first time that morning. He tentatively lifted his hand, looking at Ronan, and it took him a moment to realize he was asking for permission. Ronan nodded. Declan gently brushed the pad of his finger over Chainsaw's head. Ronan felt an uncomfortable knot in his chest. He pushed it down. 

Ronan watched Declan pet Chainsaw for a few more moments before turning to the kitchen. 

"What're you doing?" Matthew asked. 

"What does it look like I'm doing," Ronan said as he started to pull out eggs, butter, and milk from the fridge. "I'm making fucking breakfast. Be useful and get the flour and vanilla would ya?" He saw Adam smile at him, and his heart floored. 

Matthew got close to him, "What about Mass?" He whispered, glancing over at the clock on the wall. Ronan sucked in a breath. Shit. He'd halfway forgotten about Mass. He glanced at Declan, who was cooing softly at Chainsaw, and Chainsaw who cooed back to entertain him. 

"There's a late Mass tonight. Ten I think." Adam said, appearing next to them. 

"You looked it up?" Ronan raised an eyebrow. 

"I lived there shit head." Right. 

"Then we'll do that," Ronan shrugged. 

"What about Declan?" Matthew whispered again. 

"What the fuck about 'im?" He asked, exasperated.

"Do we take him? He has no clothes." Ronan open his mouth to retort, but realized his brother had a point. Declan was still in the cotton t-shirt that almost went down to his ankles.  _Shit._

"Don't you still have boxes of old clothes?" Adam's eyebrows were pinched in a way that told Ronan he was thinking. He was right, of course, as he normally was. 

"Oh yea!" Matthew's face lit up. "Mom always kept our old clothes. Never knew why though," he looked sad for a moment, before his face cleared. "Ronan, you make breakfast. Me and Adam will search the attic." He tugged on Adam's wrist, willing him to venture upstairs to the attic, leaving Ronan alone with Declan. 

A year ago, this scene would have ended in a blood bath. Now it was awkward. Ronan knew so much and so little at the same time. This Declan just knew so little. Declan before knew too much. And Ronan didn't know how to handle it. 

"Wanna help?" He asked, gesturing to the contents in front of himself. Declan looked surprised, studying him with the same piercing eyes, and the same stubborn face. The only thing missing where the deep set bruises underneath his eyes that could  _almost_ rival Adam's. Slowly, Declan began to nod. He slid down, grabbing the chair and dragging it with him to stand on. 

"Know how to break an egg?" Ronan raised an eyebrow, and true to Lynch form, Declan rolled his eyes, plucking an egg from the cart and breaking it with ease. For a six year old, Ronan was impressed. 

"I bake with Mom," Declan said quietly. This, Ronan didn't know. His mother always woke up early, before anyone else, to make them breakfast on Sundays, before Mass. If he remembered correctly, Declan had always been seated at the table first as the rest clamored down. Ronan supposed it made sense. He said nothing, waiting to see if Declan would explain further. He didn't. And the Lynch brothers made pancakes in silence, until Matthew came lumbering down the stairs with a happy face. He, rather loudly, whispered that they'd found Declan's box of old clothes, and they set up Delcan's old room for him. 

Ronan looked back to the boy, his face set with such a look of determination as he stirred the pancake mix. When he presented it, the determination morphed into an open express, one that hoped for praise. The knot in Ronan's chest grew substantially larger. 


	2. Sunday Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sticking to his plan, after Fr. John passed them down the aisle, Ronan was motioning for Matthew to go. He half jogged with Declan in his arms, placing him half gently in the car, and speeding off before anyone else had even stepped foot out of the church.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fucking New Year Everyone! May 2018 just be better.

Morning blurred to afternoon. Opal was still hiding, Declan was still a six year old, and no one had gone to Mass yet. The Lynch boys never missed Mass. Not when their dad died, not when their mom died, but now, as Ronan watched, from his seat at the kitchen table, Matthew carry Declan upstairs for a nap, he wasn't so sure Mass was a good idea. The attendees there knew the Lynch brothers, have known them since birth, and know exactly what a young Lynch looks like. They'd spot Declan faster than Ronan could speed the BMW down a straight path. He didn't like the prospect of having to dodge unwanted questions. 

"I can see you thinkin' real hard over there, Lynch," Adam drawled, placing a hand on the back on Ronan's neck. It'd taken a while, for him to touch Ronan anywhere close to this neck, but they got there. 

"Asshole," Ronan said, lovingly. Then he noticed a piece of paper in Adam's other hand. "The fucks that?" 

"A list," he felt Adam shrug. 

"A list?" Ronan repeated. "For fucking what?" He reached to grab it, but Adam instead sat down next to him, splaying it out for both to see. 

The top read  _Must Do_ in Adam's small neat handwriting. Then read as follows: 

1\. Find Opal

He glanced at Adam, who shrugged again. "It's been awhile." Ronan already had a few places to look. 

2\. Call Matthew's School 

Now he glowered at Adam. "What?" Adam asked. "You have to call them. He can't just mysteriously disappear. The school will call or whatever _eventually."_

Ronan huffed. "What are we gonna tell them then? Sorry Matthew won't be in school. Why? Oh because I accidentally turned him back to his six year old self. Yeah that'll go over real fucking well, Parrish."

"Or you could tell them Declan got really sick and can't drive me back," Matthew spoke, causing both boys to jump. 

"Christ, we need to get you a bell," Ronan muttered. Adam smacked his arm.  

"You're just jealous because I walk in shadows," Matthew laughed, which made Ronan crack half a smile. 

"That's not a bad idea," Adam said, going back to what he said moments before. Matthew beamed. 

"Whatever. What's the next thing on this damn list," Ronan grumbled. 

3\. Call Declan's work

"Absolutely not," Ronan shook his head. He'd rather eat glass than talk to the suiting wearing bastard that was Declan's boss. 

"You have to," Adam pressed. "We can't let Declan lose his job because of this." Then he turned to Matthew, "Is there anyone we can call?" 

Matthew thought for a moment,"Well he's got a friend from work. She's over at our place a lot. I think Declan secretly likes her, but won't do anything about it." 

"What happened to Ashley," Adam asked, head cocked to the side. 

"Broke up with him," Matthew shrugged. "He didn't say why." 

"Alright who gives a shit about who Declan is or isn't dating this week," Ronan bit out. Adam smacked him again. He looked down at the last thing on the list. 

4\. Change Declan back

"Well no shit Parrish," Ronan sighed. The list was stupid. The whole situation was stupid, and not something Ronan wanted to deal with. 

Adam glared, "Where's the sundial. Have you tried that yet?" 

Ronan felt heat creep up his neck. He had forgotten that the sundial was what start this mess. He got up and went to the stairs, where he had dropped it when it went off. He noted that Declan's coffee and ruined mug were still on the floor too. Grabbing it and returning to the kitchen, he tossed it to Adam, who caught it with ease. 

"Why'd you dream this anyway?" Adam questioned as he observed it. Ronan let out a breath through his nose. 

"I wanted something that would turn back a process," he said, and was quiet for a moment, trying to gather his words. Adam was looking at him, like he already knew what he was going to say. "Like dying," he finished quietly. 

"Oh Ronan," Adam whispered. Ronan sent him a sharp look, making him sigh and turn his attention back to the dream thing. "Here goes nothing," he muttered, but when he tried to move the needle, it didn't budge. He tried to force it down, but still, it did not move. It remained stubbornly at VI. A frown tugged at the corner of his lips. 

Ronan scoffed, "C'mon Parrish. I know you're stronger than you look." He snatched the sundial from Adam's hands, but got the same result. The damn thing was stuck. Matthew grabbed it then, holding it an arms length away, trying the button. It wouldn't push. Now the dream thing was nothing more than a useless piece of metal. 

"Well, that's not good," Matthew voiced what they were all thinking, placing the piece of shit gently on the table. 

Ronan was angry. The only thing that would could have turned his brother back didn't work. He pushed back from the table violently. Everything was starting to spiral. He threw on his coat and boots with far more aggression than was necessary. 

"Where are you going?" Adam called, still seated at the table. 

"To do the first thing on that Goddamn list," he shouted as he walked out the back door. Find Opal. 

✠✠✠

It wasn't hard. When in doubt, Ronan knew to go to the barn with the sleeping cows. He had specifically dreamed a heater that didn't need to be plugged in or batteries for Opal to be in here when it got cold. 

"I sure hope you remembered to bring a coat, Brat," he called as he stepped in, rubbing his hands together from the cold. It was almost Christmas, and this winter was already a bitch. 

He got an inhuman squawk as a response, one that could be taken in many different ways, and Ronan chose to take is a confirmation. She was curled up by the heater, wrapped in one of Declan's old blankets. In the dim light of the barn, Ronan could see a puzzled look on her face. She was not taking Declan's transformation well. Then again, neither was Ronan. He squeezed himself next to her. She leaned her head against him. Ronan relaxed, knowing she wasn't angry, just confused. 

"You been in here long?" He asked. She made a noncommittal noise. 

"Parrish is worried about you," he tried. 

" _Kerah,"_ she whined, burying her face further. Ronan hung his head. 

"I know, kid. You gotta- just- You can't treat him like he's normal shithead Declan, okay? You don't know this Declan." The _I don't know this Declan_ went unsaid, but Opal seemed to understand. She let out a small sigh, and Ronan felt her nod. 

They sat in silence a moment longer. Ronan felt a momentary pause, and he could almost pretend that everything was normal. That Declan wasn't six. That they were on their way back to D.C. That he was getting Opal to say goodbye, rather than say hello to a stranger. Then the moment broke, and he was scooping Opal up, taking her inside to get warm.

 ✠✠✠

Ronan was fixing the last of the buttons on his shirt when Adam walked in. He made no effort to hide the way his eyes trailed up his body. Ronan flushed.

Adam smirked, before his expression turned serious. "Are you sure it's a good idea to take Declan?" 

"No," he snorted. He thought it was a capital B, Bad Idea. "But Declan's still a stubborn shit." 

Which was true. Ronan had causally mentioned that maybe he should stay home, get a good night sleep or whatever. Declan had  _very_ adamantly listed all the reasons why he  _had_ to go to Mass. And when he listed reason #546: 'because Dad says so', Ronan knew he couldn't really argue with him.

Adam hummed, but Ronan could tell he wasn't happy with the plan. Ronan grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him close, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Adam huffed a breath.

"C'mon Lynch. I know you can do better than that."

Ronan grinned, all wicked and sharp teeth, and ducked to kiss him _properly._ Adam moved easily to his neck, sucking and kissing softly. 

"Easy, Parrish," he gasped out when he bit down on his collar bone. "I'm about to go to a place of worship." Adam's laugh was bright and happy and one of the things Ronan loved the most.

"Because that's ever stopped you before?" Nonetheless, he stepped back just to hug him. 

"It'll be okay," he whispered into Ronan's ear. He didn't know whether he meant Mass, or everything in general. He squeezed Adam a little tighter. 

✠✠✠

Adam walked slowly behind Ronan, enjoying the view of him in a suit. He was devilishly handsome, in a way that screamed danger and something magical. Adam never envisioned his life in this direction. He  _thought_ he'd get the hell out of Henrietta, and never look back. Maybe send a postcard a time or two. Now, now he wasn't so sure. If coming back meant  _Ronan_ then coming was okay. Henrietta was okay. He felt something that he could only assume was more than the friendly kind of love when he looked at Ronan.  _Ronan_ had not been apart of the plan. But somehow he'd managed to squeeze himself right in the middle of it all. And that was okay. 

Adam snapped himself back to reality when he heard Ronan say, "Your tie isn't tied, and neither is Declan's. What the hell?" Sure enough, both Lynch wore their ties draped around their necks. Matthew looked sheepish, glancing at Declan, who was engrossed in whatever Opal trying to explain. It was cute. 

"Ah-well," Matthew started, lowering his voice. "Declan usually does it for me." 

"Are you serious?" Ronan looked fondly exasperated at his brother. 

"As murder," Matthew nodded. 

Chuckling, Adam stepped forward. "You can't talk much, Lynch. Your tie is crooked." 

"Is not!" 

"Is too!" A new voice joined them. It was Declan, peering up at Ronan. 

Ronan's eyes narrowed, his hands were set on his hips, and Adam could see a sneer pulling at his mouth. Declan stared a moment longer, before his eyes started to narrow, hands on hips, and mouth pulling into more of a frown, trying to mirror Ronan's stance. Adam snorted, and Matthew burst into giggles. Ronan fought a smile. It was turning out to be a good night. 

✠✠✠

Adam had given him one for kiss before they all piled into the car. Ronan was mildly worried about Declan behind in the back seat. Though the Lynch boys were no short, delicate brand now, when they were young, they fell a little short on the growth scale. Ronan remembered his father being worried about it. Once he overheard him say to Aurora, "Short Lynches just won't  _do,_ Angel." Looking at Declan, he contemplated investing in a car seat. Maybe even dreaming one. Then tossed the thought out the window. Declan would be fine. 

 

Ten o'clock Mass was busier than Ronan had expected it to be. The church wasn't packed, as Ronan has seen it, but it was more than half full. 

"Looks like everyone got a late fucking start," Ronan mumbled as he ushered Matthew and Declan into an open pew. They sat: Matthew, Declan, Ronan, which was different than normal. Matthew usually sat in the middle, because Declan and Ronan couldn't sit next to each other for an hour without fighting. They couldn't really sit with Matthew as a barrier without getting into a fight either, but they just pretended it helped. Now it was weird, seeing Declan's dark head, as opposed to Matthew's golden one. He glanced around. 

He recognized a lot of faces. It made his neck sweat. He should have made a better plan with Matthew than just 'wing it'. But Matthew's go-with-the-flow- everything-is-sunshine-and-shitting-lollipops, attitude, and Ronan distaste for planning anything in general, made it difficult. So wining it was. Ronan figured they'd bolt as soon as Mass ended. He told Matthew as such over Declan's head. Declan complained about wanting to stay later and meet the priest. Ronan told him to shut up. Then Mass started. 

Less than halfway through the ceremony, Ronan caught Declan dozing. His eyes would droop, he'd blink and stubbornly force them open, then the cycle would repeat itself. Ronan watched it happen four times in a row before leaning down to whisper, "You can sleep." 

Declan shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. Ronan couldn't be mad. Even he was tired. Never again is he doing late Mass on a Sunday. He faced forward, listening to the long homily. 

Finally, communion came. The Lynch brothers stood, Matthew leading, Declan with his arms crossed dutifully over his chest, while Ronan followed up with a soft hand on the back on his head to guide them. Ronan watched the priest's face morph into one of confusion as Matthew moved, revealing Declan, who beamed proudly, waiting to be blessed. Ronan met Fr. John's eyes with a steely glare. He quickly blessed Declan, and gave the Eucharist to Ronan. They were going to have to  _bolt_.  

Not two minutes after they had taken their seats, Declan was asleep, leaning against Matthew breathing deeply. Even with his nap earlier, he couldn't make it. Matthew was staring at him lovingly, paying no mind to the Mass. They were asked to stand for the Final Blessing. Without thinking, Ronan bent to pick Declan off of him, hoisting him up on his hip. He grunted a little with effort. 6 year olds were not meant to be picked up, Ronan decided. Still, Declan nuzzled into his shoulder, slurring _"Ifell'sleep,"_  

"I know. It's okay. Mass is almost over anyway," he whispered back. Declan seemed appeased by this, and his breathing evened out. 

Sticking to his plan, after Fr. John passed them down the aisle, Ronan was motioning for Matthew to  _go._ He half jogged with Declan in his arms, placing him half gently in the car, and speeding off before anyone else had even stepped foot out of the church.

Declan fell right back to sleep, and Matthew wasn't far behind him. Ronan too felt sleep tug at his eyelids. He couldn't wait to put Declan down and crawl into bed with Adam, letting the day slip away. But Ronan had a feeling it would be a while until he slept easy. At least until Declan was back to normal. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side not: For people who aren't Catholic, typically (at least the way I was taught) a person who has not received the Sacrament of the Eucharist crossing their arms over their chest as they go up the line to receive Communion. This tells the priest that this person cannot be a receiver so he will give them a blessing by making the sign of the cross over them. Just to clear up any confusion! 
> 
> Also, let me know how I'm doing with the characters, the plot, the interactions. Tell me what you like, don't like etc etc. I hope you like this installment! More to come! 
> 
> ~DTW
> 
> P.S. All mistakes are mine, and knowing me, there will be a shit ton.

**Author's Note:**

> All rights to the magnificent Maggie Stiefvater. I don't own anything except the plot :) 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments!


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